


spot crossed lovers

by Anonymous



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Age Difference, Developing Relationship, F/M, Misunderstandings, No Sex, Power Imbalance, Pre-Relationship, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-11-26 16:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Following a misconstrued encounter at the movie premiere in "Animaestro", a dropped sketchbook pushes Gabriel Agreste firmly into Marinette Dupain-Cheng's path. The two learn more about each other than their professional appearances, but their inappropriate friendship threatens to turn into something worse. Gabriel has done many things for love, but he must decide if pursuing Marinette is a line he is willing to cross.





	1. bows and lace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 16/04 edit: I edited the summary and have a plot set. We are in for a slow burn.
> 
> If you do not ship Gabrinette, I ask that you hit the back button and not read this. I am well aware of the many reasons why this ship is horrific, and that is in fact the very reason why I am writing it.

Gabriel Agreste had had no intention of physically attending the premiere of the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie. He had already done his part by having his brand collaborate with the production both on-set and in merchandising, and he was a  _very_  busy man. Plus, from what he'd heard, both Ladybug and Chat Noir had turned down invitations to the premiere; Ladybug citing that she was not an entertainment star, and Chat Noir caught up in a prior commitment, so it wasn’t a chance to take their Miraculous either. All in all, there was no reason to constrain himself to the venue when Nathalie would easily cover for him.

Unfortunately, his son had other ideas.

“Are you coming to the premiere?” Adrien asked, flitting by the doorway.

“Don’t slouch, Adrien, it’s bad for your posture,” he replied. The boy flinched, but straightened obediently. “Unfortunately, I have something else scheduled tomorrow. I won’t be able to attend.”

“Oh. I see.” The boy’s shoulders curled back into himself. “It was just that, well… It’s my first acting gig, technically- officially, and you and Mum used to tell me about how you’d go to Mum’s movie premieres together. I know you’re busy, a lot, but I thought… I just thought…”

The boy bowed his head.

“It’s okay, I hope your day goes well, tomorrow,” he acquiesced, and zipped out the door.

He could feel Nathalie’s gaze boring into his skull.

Gabriel sighed.

“Could you let the event manager know I’ll be personally attending?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, sir.” His secretary’s short affirmation dripped with amusement.

Nothing of it, it wasn’t as though he had any particular plans for the premiere anyway. If the opportunity came for an akuma, well, he was getting better at multitasking.

It was only a movie premiere.

 

After getting through the interviews on the red carpet, things finally moved into the venue building, where all the stars and production teams joined together to for chats and publicity. As one of the two main stars, Adrien had taken Miss Kagami Tsurugi as his plus-one, while her mother got in through a connection to the animation company. The floor was lightly packed, and everyone was there for a reason. The air smelled of fresh pastries and finger foods.

Typical film event.

Adrien and his little friend split off immediately to explore the venue, and Mrs. Tsurugi excused herself to socialise. The paperwork could wait for now.

“This feels familiar, don’t you think?” Nathalie murmured to him. She picked off a glass of wine from a passing server, who then looked expectantly at Gabriel. He shook his head, and the man moved on.

“I am still not a fan of the crowds,” he said flatly. “Nor the press.”

“But you tolerated them for her,” Nathalie said, taking a sip of her wine and peering at him over her glasses. “Why don’t you try that for Adrien’s sake?”

Gabriel opened his mouth to retort, when from the corner of his eye, a blurred figure caught his attention, and he reacted instinctively.

He caught the girl by the waist, and her right leg lifted off the ground opposite her torso in an unintentional dip. Amusingly, she still balanced an almost empty tray of red-and-black macarons on her hand.

“You should be more careful,” he said, his words unnaturally calm, “Miss Marinette.”

The girl stared up at him, eyes focusing, until the dizziness passed for shock and horror. Nathalie took the tray and Gabriel helped the poor girl back to her feet.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Mister Agreste,” she said, smoothing down her skirt with a flush on her cheeks. She took the tray back from Nathalie and gave them both an abashed smile. “Would you like some macarons?”

“I presume you’re here on behalf of your parents?” he asked, taking a red one and biting into it. Of course, such a reputable bakery as the Dupain-Cheng’s would cater an event like this.

“Yeah, they were short one server so I volunteered,” Miss Marinette beamed. “I’m a little clumsy, but I’m doing my best.”

A nervous first-time server at a high-profile movie premiere filled with A-list celebrities… It wouldn’t take very long for someone to take their anger out on her. Miss Marinette had avoided akumatisation for this long, but perhaps…

“That’s quite admirable of you to help out your family,” he said with nod. “Please, don’t let us keep you from your work.”

“Thank you, Mister Agreste! And sorry for all that.”

The girl backed away and narrowly avoided crashing into another guest. She gave a quick apology and ran off to the tables of refreshments.

“You’re smiling,” Nathalie said into her wine glass. “And it’s not the scary one, either.”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he fired back. “Where is Adrien?”

“He’s failing to keep Miss Bourgeois and Miss Tsurugi from killing each other.”

He followed her eyes, and saw precisely that. Unsurprising that Bourgeois found a way in. Tsurugi leaned in very closely and whispered at her, and the blonde curled up and retreated, tail between her legs. Adrien was shrinking into himself, incapable of intervening.

Ugh, he looked around for a server, he really needed a drink to deal with all this petty drama.

Nathalie’s phone rang. She picked it up, and frowned. Gabriel tapped on the shoulder of a passing waiter and demanded a glass of champagne.

“We have a problem,” Nathalie said, offering him her phone.

It was open to a Twitter tweet by a verified account captioned “Sparks fly! Gabriel Agreste finds a forbidden love at the #LBCNPremiere!”, over the photo of Gabriel catching Marinette just moments ago. While he looked calmly disinterested, the girl looked terrified from the fall.

“Your champagne, sir?”

Gabriel grabbed it without looking and downed it in one go. Then, he passed the phone back to Nathalie and said, “Find out who took that photo and get a statement from Marinette immediately.”

Nathalie finished off the rest of her own wine, and left. Gabriel returned the empty glass to the stunned waiter.

“I hate premieres,” he said to the man, and walked away.

 

“Miss Marinette?”

Marinette yelped and tightened her grip on the tower of macarons, turning to see Nathalie Sancoeur with her usual neutral expression. She gave the woman a big polite smile, and tried to keep her hands from shaking all the macarons off the plate.

“Yes? Can I get you something?” she asked cheerfully.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said. “I need to speak with you and your parents.”

“Oh, that’s—”

“Mari _nette_!” Alya’s voice called from across the room. The other guests paid her little mind as she slid between them to reach her friend. Alya thrust her phone out. “You’re trending on Twitter!”

“I’m _what_?”

Nathalie caught the plate just as Marinette dropped it, and set it aside on another passing server’s empty tray. The server hobbled away, surprised by the sudden load. Alya was vibrating on the spot.

“Yes, that is what I’m here to speak with you about,” Nathalie said calmly. “Miss Marinette, if you could bring me to your parents—”

“Are you okay?’ Alya asked, touching Marinette’s shoulders and completely ignoring Nathalie. She whispered into the girl’s ear. Marinette pulled back, aghast.

“No! No! I just tripped and he caught me!” She snatched the other girl’s phone and scrolled down. “Just what are they saying—”

Nathalie closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Oh, premieres.

 

“See,” Marinette jabbed at the security footage. “I tripped, and Mister Agreste caught me, there’s nothing else to this!”

“I’m glad you’re okay, sweetheart,” her father said, pulling her back into the conference room chair. “You want us to make a statement clarifying this, then?”

“Yes,” said Nathalie. “The account is an American tabloid reporter. Unfortunately, it is far too late to pull the tweet, but I can assure you we will be charging the person who made that claim. You have my word.”

“Thank you for informing us of this,” said Sabine. “It would have been quite a scare to hear about it from someone else.”

“That is no problem,” Nathalie nodded. “However, I must ask that you sign these forms before you leave.”

“An NDA?” The parents echoed.

Nathalie smiled politely. “It would greatly help the process of clearing up misinformation if you didn’t try to explain over us. The last thing we need is for one of your statements to be taken out-of-context. As Marinette cannot sign for herself, you must.”

Tom and Sabine regarded each other. Nathalie didn’t budge. Marinette’s eyes lit up in recognition, but the girl didn’t say anything.

“And if we were not to sign it?” Sabine asked.

Nathalie steepled her fingers. “Nothing would happen, but signing it would guarantee that any compensation we get from the tabloid would be yours as well.”

The parents’ moods darkened visibly.

“It’s fine,” said Marinette. Her parents turned to her. The girl was smiling reassuringly. “It’s just in case, and it’s not like anything bad did happen. Mrs. Nathalie is right, if I did try to explain things, people probably wouldn’t take it the way I meant anyway, right?”

Tom and Sabine regarded each other, then Nathalie.

“Could we have a moment?”

She nodded, and left the room. Lucky for the event, the premiere festivities were still in full swing. The tweet was only a blip on the radar for them. Nathalie pulled out her phone and dialed.

“Where are you?” she asked bluntly.

“In a private room, avoiding any further media attention.” Gabriel said. A cork popped. “This was a mistake.”

“You’ll be fine,” she said dispassionately. “Have you checked in on Adrien?”

“I warned him of the gossip, but last I heard he was avoiding a three-way catfight between Miss Tsurugi, Bourgeois, and… and that girl who voiced Ladybug in the film.”

“I don’t imagine you’ll be taking care of that,” she implied.

“I would rather die than deal with an akumatisation right now, thank you.”

“Well, call Pierre if you must. I’ll stay with Adrien after the Dupain-Chengs sign.”

“Good luck, I’m going to get drunk and wait for the movie premiere to start.” A pause, then a glass slammed onto a table.

Nathalie’s lips thinned. “Noted, sir. I’ll let Pierre know.”

Gabriel hung up without even a goodbye. Nathalie sighed, then steeled her face and walked back into the room. The papers had been signed, but neither of the parents looked very comfortable about it.

“Thank you,” she said, taking them. “I’m terribly sorry for all this fuss today. Please enjoy the rest of the premiere—Mister Gabriel will be leaving soon.”

“Um, is Adrien leaving too?” Marinette asked.

Nathalie paused. “No, he’ll be staying until after the screening.”

“Oh, that’s great, then. Thank you.”

Nathalie nodded, and left.

“Can I… go find Adrien and Alya?” Marinette asked sheepishly. Her parents turned to her.

“Of course, dear,” said her mother, bringing her in for a hug. “I’m sorry today turned out like this.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” she pulled away with a smile. “The premiere should be starting soon, so I wanna say goodbye to them before they go.”

Her father rested a hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead.

“Go find your friends, Marinette,” he said, “We’ll clear up now.”

Marinette beamed, and hugged them.

“Thank you! I’ll meet you in the lobby as soon as the screening starts!”

 

After Emilie fell comatose, he stopped drinking entirely. There were no more high-society events to attend in person, and no reason to celebrate with alcohol. He tolerated it, at best.

But here he was now, locked in a private conference room with a bottle of whisky and his phone on silent.

He tipped back another glass. Just one more, he didn’t want to make things worse for his PR by stumbling out to the driveway blackout drunk.

It was only another misinformed rumour, it was hardly the first time some uncouth tabloid had accused him of having an affair with a younger party, or suggested about his love life, but it _was_ the first time since Emilie had ‘disappeared’.

He set the glass down.

Marinette did remind him of her, though, just in some small ways. Mostly in her smile and cheer, but the girl hardly had the no-nonsense attitude of his wife.

Also, she was his son’s age. Obviously.

_Obviously._

But the girl was intriguing, there was no denying that. She’d fended off his akuma once, and had no problem risking his ire for Adrien’s sake. He could see the girl was devoted to her friends, to her work, and to Adrien especially.

He poured himself the last glass. There was still much of the bottle left, but he kept to his word.

Love? No, he’d never love anyone again. But someone like Miss Marinette, were she old enough to regularly interact with him without suspicion, would be an interesting project.

He set the emptied glass down, just as the door flung open, and a blur ducked into the room and shut the door behind.

The uninvited guest took some deep breaths, pressed against the door, and waited for a faint chatter to fall silent. Then, she let out a sigh of relief, before turning around and clapping her hands over her mouth.

For a lack of anything else to do, Gabriel poured himself another glass, as Marinette struggled to compose herself.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked out at last. “For everything, really, I didn’t mean to trip back in the foyer and I didn’t mean for that guy to take a picture and I’m really sorry for barging in here I just saw Chloe and what’s-her-name and I didn’t want to face them after everything and I’m just—”

“Breathe,” he said calmly, “before you suffocate us both.”

The girl inhaled slowly, and hunched over, hands on her knees. Her bun was in danger of falling loose by now. She must have felt it, for she pulled the pin free and untucked her hair.

“By the way,” he said idly. She flinched at his voice. “Indigo and pink don’t go well together, might I recommend black or a darker grey?”

“Oh.” she smoothed out her skirt. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“It looks like you did well on the flower print, however,” he said. “Did you do it all on your own?”

She nodded, folding her hands behind her back. “Everything. I didn’t have a lot of time, but I refitted an old cosplay—costume for the top and some leftover material for the bow.”

“Very efficient of you, Miss Marinette. You have the creative drive and practicality I can only hope some of my designers will find.”

“Well, I mean…” She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I’m not…” She met his eyes, and smiled. “Thank you, Mister Agreste. That means a lot coming from you of all people.”

His own lips quirked.

“I imagine you’re looking for my son, then.”

“Oh! Yes, I’m gonna go—do that.” She backed towards the door, but hesitated. “Um. I really did want to apologise about today. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for me. I’m very, very sorry.”

She clasped her hands in front of her and bowed her head, wisps of hair dropping over her face. Gabriel set down the untouched glass and rose from the chair. Slowly, he made his way towards her, and stopped at the end of the table.

“If there is one bit of advice I can give you, as both as a designer and in general, Miss Marinette,” he said, “Don’t apologise for things that aren’t your fault.”

She looked up at him, a faint surprise on her face. He gave her the slightest of smiles. The girl straightened.

“You’re right,” she admitted, folding her arms. Her eyes glimmered. “I’m gonna go find Adrien, thank you, Mister Agreste.”

“Say nothing of it, Miss Marinette.”

She gave him one last smile, opened the door, and left.

Gabriel turned back to the filled glass. He went and picked it up, staring into the amber liquid, at the hazy reflection of himself.

An interesting girl, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was. But a girl, nonetheless.

He downed the shot.

Gabriel Agreste only loved one person the way he loved Emilie, but Miss Marinette could make for an intriguing acquaintance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not yet sure if this will have a truly happy ending... I think it will be bittersweet at best... Your opinions would be much appreciated!


	2. paper and graphite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! It's been a few weeks since I first published this story and a few things have changed! Namely that i have decided to expand this into a slow burn, multi-chapter work, and secondly that I added some new content tags and redid the summary. Please re-read those in case there is anything you might want to avoid with the continuation of this premise.
> 
> Otherwise, I'm pleasantly surprised by the reception! I had thought this ship dead in the water, but it looks like it's still kicking, which is good to see. I appreciate your support very much :) Without readership, this story would likely be kept to myself, and that's not very fun for me.

Marinette had never been happier to be ignored. As she stepped into class — on time, for once — no one stopped their conversations to stare at her, nor did they give her uncomfortable looks and pretended they hadn’t noticed her. Everyone in the class acted completely normally, as though nothing of importance had happened to her over the weekend.

Everyone, except Adrien.

The boy waved her down at the front row, forcing her to acknowledge him. He stood up and approached her to rest a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked, his face a clear picture of worry. “I’m really sorry about the premiere; tabloids can be really cruel.”

A few months ago, she would have swooned under his gaze and been incapable of replying coherently, but Adrien hadn’t taken Kagami to the movie premiere just as a friend. She smiled like she would have for Nino or any other male acquaintance, and replied clearly.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. I’m the one who’s sorry about all the drama.”

“Yeah, well,” Adrien took his hand off his shoulder and smiled back. “It seems like Dad’s PR did a good job on getting rid of that claim.” His face fell serious again. “You’re definitely okay, though?”

Marinette let out a breathy laugh and pushed him lightly.

“Really, I’m fine. Your father just caught me. He was really nice about it, too.”

“I’m glad,” Adrien said, his smile returning. “Be careful, okay?”

She gave a puzzled smile in return, but nodded, “Yeah, I will.”

“Great.”

They returned to their seats, and Alya gave her a warm smile. Before she could say anything, Miss Bustier clapped her hands together and drew attention to the front of the room. The school day had begun.

As they started on the day’s lesson, Marinette’s eyes fell to the back of Adrien’s head. There was a pity in her heart. Being constantly in the spotlight, constantly under scrutiny and false rumours and gossip, must have taken a toll on him and his father. It was a real shame—no wonder Mr. Agreste was such a private person.

Something sunk in her stomach. If she hadn’t been so clumsy… No, that wasn’t it. Mr. Agreste had told her himself not to apologise for it. She shook her head of the guilt. She had promised him she wouldn’t blame herself, and she would uphold it.

 

“Hey, Marinette?”

She pulled her head back from her locker and turned to Nino. He looked anxious and was holding a folder in his hands.

“Something wrong, Nino?”

“Yeah,” the boy said, his face pinched. “I was supposed to hand homework to Adrien after school — y’know how he left after lunch for a photoshoot? — but I have a meeting with the radio club I can’t skip. Could you drop ‘em off at his place for me, please?”

“Oh!” Marinette ran through her head. “Yeah, definitely! I can do that.”

“Thank you so much,” Nino passed the folder to her and gave her a quick hug. “You’re a lifesaver, Marinette. I owe you one.”

“Relax, it’s no problem,” she grinned. “You can buy me lunch next time if you really wanna make it up to me.”

Nino gave a mock salute, “Will do, ma’am!” and hurried out of the locker room. Marinette giggled, and put the folder into her bag.

 

Marinette stood in front of the Agreste estate’s intercom and took a deep breath. It would be easy, just wait for Nathalie to answer the call and she would drop the folder into the hatch and leave.

Unfortunately, fate had other ideas.

“Good afternoon, Miss Marinette.”

She forced her face not to twist into a grimace. The last thing she’d wanted was to see the man she’d inadvertently caused a PR coverup for. Even if she tried not to blame herself, it was plenty awkward.

“Mister Agreste!” she answered, the cheer in her voice painfully over-the-top. “I… I have Adrien’s homework here for him. Is he back yet?”

“I’m afraid not, but thank you for bringing it for him, it’s very much appreciated,” Mr. Agreste replied. “You can come in and drop it off.”

“Oh, actually I thought I could just—”

The door buzzed and the call cut. Marinette’s shoulders slumped, and she stared up at the clear blue sky.

“Why do I even bother trying?” she asked Tikki.

Her jacket pocket giggled at her misfortune. Marinette did not appreciate it.

 

She met Mr. Agreste in the foyer, alone. There had always been something unsettling about how empty the Agreste mansion was, but somehow, without Nathalie or Adrien’s presence, it became even more unnerving. She unholstered her backpack from her shoulder.

“Sorry,” she said, to fill the uncomfortable silence. She knelt down and took out a heavy textbook and her sketchbook, before finally digging out the folder. “Nino was supposed to give this to him, but he had a club meeting.”

“I see,” the man said. “Thank you for taking up the task.”

She gave a smile she hoped came off as genuine — it probably didn’t, she had the social grace of a giraffe — and handed over the folder, clutching the books to her chest.

“It’s nothing, really,” she insisted. “That’s what friends do for each other, and everything.”

“I’m sure Adrien appreciates it,” Mr. Agreste said, taking the homework. “Thank you again, Miss Marinette.”

She smiled, and moved to put her excess books back, balancing them on one arm as she reached for her backpack on the floor, when:

“I hope you’re feeling all right, after the premiere?”

Her arm jolted and the books fell to the pristine tiled ground. She yelped, and dropped to her knees to pick them up. Her sketchbook had flown open, revealing a page of Miraculous-inspired dresses. Marinette felt a blush rise to her ears, and she quickly recuperated the books and shoved them into her backpack.

“Yeah, I’m—er…” she straightened, swinging her backpack onto her shoulders. Her face was on fire. “I’m fine, really. No one else knows about it and I’m guessing that’s what you wanted,” she ended her sentence with a too-cheerful laugh.

Mr. Agreste’s face wasn’t pulled down into disappointment or mockery at her clumsiness, instead he looked kind of amused.

“That’s good news,” he said. “I’m still terribly sorry for all the dramatics. Those tabloids stoop ever lower with each headline.”

“Yeah…” Marinette gave another laugh in agreement. She wanted to disappear.

“If I may, however,” Agreste’s face turned gentle. “That was your sketchbook?”

“Oh… Yeah. It is.” she bounced on the balls of her feet. “I was doing some Miraculous-inspired outfits. Ladybug, Chat Noir, everyone… It was just for fun, though, nothing serious.”

“It looked quite impressive, from all that I saw.”

“Really?” A different blush rose to her cheeks. “Thank you, that means a lot to me.”

“Would you mind letting me see them? I’m quite curious.”

Marinette opened her backpack and pulled out the sketchbook. She flipped to the proper pages, then presented it to her idol. Agreste peered at them and Marinette felt nerves jittering in her stomach.

“You have great skill, Miss Marinette,” he said, taking the sketchbook from her hands and flipping to the next page.

Marinette mentally ran through the contents. It was her school sketchbook, teachers would be regularly going through it, there was nothing incriminating inside. She relaxed.

“Thank you,” she said, a real smile growing on her face. “I’m still working on it, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever make an actual dress for it.”

“No, some of these are a bit too complicated to recreate,” Mr. Agreste’s mouth pinched into a pensive line, his eyes fixed on the pages.

Marinette allowed herself a quick teeth-baring grimace. Ouch.

“However,” he looked up, and Marinette forced a small smile, “I’d be happy to give you advice on how to improve these designs, if you don’t mind parting with your sketchbook for a few days. You can consider it an apology for what happened at the film screening.”

Her eyes went wide.

“You… critiquing my designs?” her voice cracked a little. No way. “I mean, yes, that would really nice of you, Mister Agreste!”

Mr. Agreste gave a kind smile, and closed her sketchbook, tucking it under his arm alongside Adrien’s folder. He placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder, and guided her towards the door.

“You show a great promise, Miss Marinette,” he said gently, stopping before the wooden doors. “It’d be my pleasure and honour to guide you.”

Marinette felt her face aching with the smile on her face. She clasped her hands together and beamed.

“Thank you so very much, Mr. Agreste!” she said again.

He nodded at her, a warmth in his expression she’d never seen before. Marinette’s heart was going to burst from her chest.

“I’ll have Adrien return this to you by the end of the week,” Mr. Agreste said, opening the door for her. “Is that all right?”

Marinette nodded. She could do her class assignments in her backup sketchbook. She stepped onto the threshold and gave a parting wave.

“Goodbye, Mister Agreste,” she said cheerfully.

The man smiled back at her.

“Goodbye, Miss Marinette.”

She descended the stone steps, made it all the way down the path, passed the iron doors, and got an entire block away from the estate before she burst into a smile and began jumping in place with joy.

“Tell me I didn’t dream all of that, Tikki,” she said, starting down the road. “He’s gonna review my designs!”

“It’s great, Marinette,” a pink head popped out of her jacket. “Are you sure there isn’t anything he might find suspicious in there though?”

“Nope,” she replied, a skip in her step. “I only drew the ones everyone else knows exist in that sketchbook. Nothing in there is something Marinette wouldn’t know about.”

Tikki hummed cheerfully.

“Well then, I’m very happy for you Marinette.”

Marinette let her voice drop as she left the rich residential area and made her way to the more pedestrian-heavy streets.

“He’s probably gonna judge me pretty hard,” she said idly. “But I can take it! And he only wants me to improve, so either way it’ll be a good thing!”

Tikki giggled. “It’s wonderful to see you so optimistic about yourself, Marinette.”

Marinette beamed. “Thank you, Tikki.”

 

“Why did Marinette give you her sketchbook?”

Gabriel looked up from his work. Nathalie stood in the doorway, then crossed his office and presented a tablet to him. Surveillance footage of the foyer from earlier that day.

“Why are you so concerned?” he rebutted.

Nathalie pinched at the bridge of her nose, jostling her glasses.

“You do know we’re trying to convince people you’re not inappropriately involved with that girl.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, returning to the proofs. “And PR has very nicely covered it up already. It’s not like I met with her in public. She came to deliver Adrien’s homework.”

“And you took her sketchbook.”

“I’m offering to critique some of her designs,” he elaborated. “She agreed to it.”

“You haven’t shown interest in an apprentice ever,” Nathalie deadpanned. “You hate teaching. Are you planning on akumatising her?”

“It would be an interesting idea, but I’m not a fan of being targeted in attacks,” he said calmly. “Her designs are genuinely inspiring. I haven’t seen such creativity in an amateur.”

“Please do not plagiarise her work,” Nathalie’s request fell flat. “You’ll just give PR more things to cover up.”

“I can assure you, Nathalie,” he raised his head and smiled. “I have no untoward intentions with Miss Marinette.”

His secretary’s lips pressed into a thin line. She picked up the tablet.

“The only time you’ll have to critique Miss Marinette’s work will be during your ‘personal design’ sessions,” she said flatly, turning on her heel. “I trust that’ll work out for you.”

“Thank you very much, Nathalie,” he said to her parting back.

Nathalie didn’t reply, and shut the door behind her. Gabriel returned to his work.

Yes, Paris might see a brief absence from their local supervillain, but…

His eyes drifted to a weathered sketchbook.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng truly did have talent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed the new author's notes on the first chapter, I am still debating if this story will have a happy ending. As much as I will highlighting how inherently unequal this relationship is, I'm not one for stories with bad endings after so much suffering and pain. I would appreciate any input on this, as for now, I have a bittersweet, but still happy ending planned.


	3. duty and desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for quick short updates... To make up for it, here are two chapters instead of one!
> 
> Also please note I've bumped the rating from T to M! There is no sexual content as far as I have planned, but even if everything is quite fluffy and romantic it's still... that kind of relationship. So...
> 
> I am still not satisfied with Chapter 3's quality but we! must! keep! going!!!
> 
>  **6/29 Edit:** Fixed a few words and remembered Gabriel already said he was going to have Adrien return it to Marinette in Chapter 2.

Gabriel skimmed through the pages of Marinette’s sketchbook, giving each one a cursory look. Her pencil sketches had already been marked up in pen by someone else; Gabriel assumed it was one of her school teachers. Each entry was marked with a date, and through Marinette’s work, he could see a timeline of when each Miraculous holder came into the public eye, as the girl drafted up outfits inspired by their themes.

She was smart enough not to call attention to herself, with things she shouldn’t have known, even if she had seen the Miraculous tome. Gabriel would give her credit for that foresight. Miss Marinette hadn’t seemed the type to blab away, and she had wanted her involvement with the book to be kept a secret, but he still appreciated her diligence.

Audrey had once compared her work to Gabriel’s own, and he could see it too, now. Marinette’s skill was unrefined, but the creativity was very present. Beneath the erased sketches and torn out pages were very solid and intriguing concepts. There was something raw and inspiring in her work, that gave him pause.

Before he knew it, he’d wound up marking up a good half of her book, even those that didn’t relate to the Miraculous inspired designs at all. It wasn’t until his phone rang, that he realised how much time he’d spent on what was meant to be a quick and simple favour.

“Yes?” he answered, eyes returning to the pages.

“Beaumont was arrested this morning,” Stephanie said with little preamble. “I need a designer to fill in for him at the next showing. Do you have any suggestions?”

“None that aren’t already registered,” he answered easily, putting down his pen. “Ask Morgan, I’m sure she’ll know.”

“Thank you, sir,” the woman said, before hanging up.

Gabriel returned to Marinette’s work, and flipped through the pages again. Perhaps someday he’d be the one helping display her work, or perhaps she’d even become his rival. But for now, she was just a brief curiosity.

And yet, Gabriel found himself continuing to etch in the margins of the rest of the filled pages.

It was just a brief respite from the business side of designing, and from his activities as Hawk Moth.

Just for a moment, he insisted.

 

“I expected you to take longer with Miss Marinette’s sketchbook,” Nathalie said later, a faint surprise in her voice.

“She is incredibly talented. There’s still much I’d like to critique.” Gabriel said, shutting the notebook. “Could you schedule her to come in on Friday?”

“I thought you had said Adrien would return the book to her,” Nathalie frowned.

“That was my intention, however, I’d like to ask her a few things about the designs themselves.”

Nathalie’s brows furrowed and her lips turned into a frown.

“I wouldn’t recommend that, given what’s already happened. If her parents were to find out you’ve been meeting with her in private…”

Gabriel looked down at the weathered sketchbook.

“No, of course, you are right, Nathalie. I’ll ask Adrien as planned.”

 

“Adrien?”

His son turned and rose from his chair. A glance to his monitor showed Adrien was on a Twitter feed. The boy quickly switched tabs to a different site.

“I just finished my homework,” Adrien explained, slightly frazzled.

Gabriel didn’t press, and held out the sketchbook. Adrien stared at it for a moment, brows furrowing in recognition.

“If you don’t mind, could you return this to your friend, Marinette?” Adrien took the book. “I offered to give her some critique on her work last Monday. She is quite talented.”

Adrien’s fingers twitched to open it, but he met Gabriel’s eyes instead and nodded.

“Yeah, uh…” he ran his hands over the book’s cover nervously. “Yeah, I can do that.” His fingers curled over the edge and his knuckles went white. Gabriel’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Adrien turned his head away and set the book down at his desk. He repositioned his keyboard and began packing away his worksheets. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and nodded. Adrien’s movements became erratic, and finally, the boy straightened and went still. He wasn’t angry or upset, but there was clearly something he wanted to say. Gabriel prodded.

“You can tell me if something is bothering you,” he murmured, gently. “What is it?”

Adrien met his eyes, uneasy. For a moment it looked like he might insist dismissal, but his shoulders slumped and he spoke, his head drooping to the side.

“It’s nothing, it’s just… really awkward to hear rumours about your father’s love life, you know?” he fidgeted with the spine of the sketchbook, then gave a soft humorless snort. “Especially when they’re implying it’s with your friend. And when Mom hasn’t even been gone that long.”

Gabriel’s lips pressed into a frown, but then he relaxed and pulled Adrien in for a hug. The boy stiffened, before easing into the embrace.

“I’m sorry, I should have considered how you would feel over such rumours, especially concerning your own classmate.”

“No, that’s not… quite it,” Adrien amended, hugging him back. “It’s a factor, but I really don’t want to think about Mom being… It just feels like if you really do find someone—it just feels too soon.”

“I understand, Adrien,” Gabriel said. “And I assure you, I will never love another person the way I still love your mother. Nothing else will change in our family, I promise. Someday, we will be just as happy as before.”

He felt fingers press into the back of his vest, as Adrien looked up to him. His son’s eyes were glassy. Gabriel smiled, and brushed away the tears.

“Thanks…” the boy hesitated. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re always welcome, Adrien.”

 

Even though it was hers, and she knew all of the designs within, there was something novel about seeing her sketchbook marked up with commentary that wasn’t her own, and even moreso since the comments were from Gabriel Agreste of all people. His elegant, weighted writing was scrawled over the pages, even those that weren’t Miraculous-inspired designs. So focused was she on skimming the new ink, she missed half of Adrien’s words.

“—is really impressed with you, Marinette,” he finished, smiling at her. She smiled back, shutting the sketchbook and hugging it to her chest. “You really have skill in his eyes.”

“Yeah, well,” she stalled, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “Please let your father know I’m super grateful for this, it really means the world to me.”

Adrien’s smile widened, and he patted her on the shoulder, then returned to his desk. Marinette followed suit, and sat down. Alya was talking to Nino, thankfully, and Marinette opened her sketchbook again.

She got halfway through the first comment on her styling, before she shut the book with a dramatic thud. Alya’s head turned to her briefly, but Marinette stared at the cover.

There was a pressure in her chest, an equal excitement and anxiety. If she read any more of the comments she was either going to jump from her seat in joy and validation or burst into over-the-top tears. It wasn’t the criticism she feared, just some sort of emotion she couldn’t quite hold still.

“You okay, Marinette?” Alya leaned in.

“More than okay,” Marinette replied. “I think I might just die.”

“Okay,” Alya gave her shoulder a quick pat. “Let’s not do that. You’re not leaving me alone to present in Philosophy, thanks.”

Marinette let out a soft laugh and nudged her friend. Alya giggled.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, giving her a smile.

Bustier clapped her hands, and Marinette returned her sketchbook to her backpack. She’d fangirl in her room later.

 

Seven hours later, Marinette was screaming into her pillow, and Tikki was laughing at her misery.

“Marinette, I promise, he hasn’t even said anything really bad so far.”

“That’s not the point!” Marinette picked up another pillow at tossed it at the giggling kwami. Tikki phased through it easily. “He’s so _cool_ with how he compliments my work! I can’t do this! I’m gonna die!”

“Come on, Marinette,” Tikki flipped through the pages herself. “I’m seeing his commentary, it’s really not too bad. He’s very constructive—”

Marinette cut her off with another muted scream into her pillow. She gave a dry sob of laughter and groaned into the fabric.

“I can’t read it, Tikki. I’m too panicky.”

“I don’t think this is you panicking, Marinette,” Tikki was smiling bright enough to rival the Eiffel Tower at night. “I think you’re just embarrassed to have someone praise your work so succinctly.”

“That… is true,” Marinette’s hair stuck to her face from the static. She brushed it aside. “I’ve never really had someone comment on my work from a fashion design standpoint. My Arts teacher didn’t specialise in it, obviously. But Mister Agreste is really too nice from the… three lines I read from him.”

“He does think very highly of your skill, Marinette,” Tikki said. “But he’s not just being nice, he really means it.”

Marinette’s cheek sunk into the pillow. “Yeah… he looks scary and acts kinda intimidating, but he’s really sweet. It’s…”

The feeling returned, and Marinette stuck her face into the pillow again and yelled. It felt _nice_ that Mr. Agreste was that nice and attentive to someone like her, and that felt crazy in and of itself.

“It’s just really weird because—”

There was a knock at the trapdoor, and Tikki ducked behind her computer monitor. Marinette sat up from her couch, as her mother’s head peaked through the floor.

“Marinette? Could you keep it down a little? I’m trying to watch TV.”

“Ah… Sorry mum!” Marinette hopped off the couch. “I’m… chatting with Alya and got carried away.”

“That’s all right, just be mindful of everyone else, sweetheart.”

The trapdoor shut. Marinette let out a sigh.

“Why don’t you show your parents the comments?” Tikki asked. “I think they’d be really proud to hear someone like Gabriel Agreste liked your other designs!”

Marinette grimaced and waved the idea aside.

“I’m pretty sure they don’t think very well of him after the movie screening,” she said, climbing into her chair and flipping the sketchbook over so she couldn’t see the pages. “I know why Nathalie did what she did, but they’re kinda ‘ugh’ about it.”

“You mean that contract she had them sign?”

“Yeah, the NDA. Non-disclosure agreement. Nathalie said it was so there wouldn’t be mixed signals but,” Marinette shrugged.

“But what?”

“But… eh… human things,” she said. “It’s really so we can’t turn around and try to sue him or something,” she gave a chuckle. “As if any money would really be worth trying to slander Gabriel Agreste. Even if it were true it’d be hard to win.”

Tikki frowned. “I must have missed that development in human justice.”

“Never mind that,” Marinette said, picking up the book again. She took a deep breath and smiled at the kwami. “Let’s see if I can get past the first comment.”

“You’ll need this, I think.”

Tikki floated to the ground and picked up the pillow Marinette had thrown at her.

“Tikki!” Marinette whined.

 

His steps echoed through the chamber as he crossed the long platform.

There was nothing more to Marinette Dupain-Cheng than a brief curiosity. She was no threat to him, from what he’d seen. She’d kept crucial details about the Miraculous book to herself, and as it appeared, she still had something to lose if she told the truth about it.

He stopped in front of a lit coffin, and stared up at the preserved corpse of his wife.

There was no denying that Marinette was talented, but she was far from the first potential protégée he’d met. Perhaps she simply reminded him of how he had loved fashion and design, before it became a chore of deadlines and demands. Regardless, he had no time to spend with her as a mentor—he was a busy man.

“Master?”

Nooroo flew out into view and Gabriel stared at him. His jaw set.

Gabriel stepped forwards, and the kwami ducked to the side. He pressed his hand against the glass of the coffin.

“Our little break is over Nooroo, it’s time to get back to work.”

Alien purple eyes wavered before him, before falling.

“Of course, Master.”

He had a promise to keep, and no amount of talent could distract him from that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're very quiet you can hear me screaming trying to rationalize the logic of Gabriel not suspecting Marinette because she's the one who allegedly stole the book and suddenly Ladybug and Chat Noir have the extra powers depicted in the spellbook.
> 
> My answer thus is that the akumas in Frozer and Syren never happened. Yes, it's a bad way of patching this hole but this is supposed to be a fluffy, wholesome, still kinda creepy Gabrinette fic! If I wanted to write Gabriel manipulating Marinette because he thinks she's Ladybug and then falling in love with her, this fic would have been rated M to begin with.


	4. soup and souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set around two weeks after the end of the last chapter.
> 
>  **6/29 Edit:** Did some rewriting and added some scenes! Don't sleep deprivation and write.

“Got a case of art block, Marinette?”

Marinette’s head hit the table and she groaned as Nathaniel sat down across from her at the Art Club table.

“You could say that,” she said, lifting her head to meet the redhead’s amused smile. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who knows fashion design, right?”

“Unfortunately, I do know the most talented person in fashion design, and that’s you.”

A grin quirked at her lips and she straightened. “Thanks Nath, that’s nice of you to say.”

“Are those the Miraculous designs you’ve been working on for like, weeks?” Nathaniel asked.

Marinette sighed and gave a quick show of one of the pages. She’d been redoing it with Gabriel’s advice and corrections, but without any further input, she wasn’t sure if she was going the right way about it or not.

“I got some help from someone, and I’ve been trying to improve it, but I don’t know…”

“Why can’t you just ask that person again?” Nathaniel asked innocently.

Marinette’s face twisted into a grimace.

“It’s a long story but, I don’t wanna bother him. And it’s not like he’s checked in on me, so…”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “Does he normally check in on your work?”

“No, I mean,” Marinette shut her sketchbook. “Never mind it, I’ll figure things out, don’t worry.”

“Hey, I don’t mean to pry, it’s just, is this someone you’ve met recently?”

Blue met teal, and Marinette gave a half-hearted shrug. “Sorta. We’ve known about each other for a while, guess you could say we’ve got a mutual friend, but I didn’t really talk to him directly until a few weeks ago. And then that didn’t actually… go anywhere.”

“So he ghosted you?” Nathaniel asked bluntly.

“No! Well,” Marinette waved her hand vaguely. “It’s really complicated, trust me, I don’t want to bother him about me. He’s so much more talented than I am and it’s just…”

“More talented than you?” Nathaniel laughed. “Come on, Marinette, you got featured by Gabriel Agreste himself, you’re hardly an amateur.”

Marinette ducked her head shyly. “I mean, if you were to compare me to someone like Gabriel Agreste, then I am just a novice—ow!”

“That’s the impostor syndrome talking,” Nathaniel said, pulling his hand back. Marinette scowled at him and rubbed at where he’d pinched her shoulder. “Seriously, you gotta ask for help if you need it Marinette, we all need someone to aspire to. You should find yourself a mentor!”

“None of the Art profs specialized in fashion design,” Marinette frowned.

“And you really won’t ask this mystery guy who advised you the first time?” Nathaniel prompted. “Seriously, you’re not like, spamming him with messages asking for help, are you?”

“No…” Although that was mainly because she didn’t have his phone number or any real way to contact him.

“Then he probably won’t mind.”

“He’s…” Marinette pressed her mouth shut. Her shoulders slumped. “Okay, I’ll try to ask him sometime. Thanks for pressuring me.”

“I’m supporting you,” Nathaniel said cheerfully. “You and Marc are alike in that way.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up mischievously. “What, in that you fell for us?”

He shushed her, and Marinette giggled. Their conversation was cut off by an alert on their phones.

“Another akuma attack,” Nathaniel remarked, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Marinette sighed and started to pack up. “Yep.”

She’d talk to Gabriel after Ladybug dealt with this.

“Marinette!”

The girl looked up to see Alya with a batch of papers in her hands. She’d barely gotten a greeting out when Alya pushed the pages to her.

“Adrien’s sick so Nino asked me to give his homework to him, but there was just an akuma attack so I gotta go get the scoop on that, okay? Thank you, bye!”

Alya raced out of the room as fast as she’d arrived.

“Uh… sure. You’re welcome?”

Nathaniel laughed. Marinette groaned.

Well, at least now she _had_ to go to the Agreste mansion.

 

The butterflies scattered as their master slammed the end of his cane into the ground. The newly purified akuma fluttered back into the lair and vanished into the flurry of white hovering in the air. His hand gripped tightly around the handle, Hawk Moth was clearly displeased by the loss.

A flash of light later, Nooroo was edging away from his owner. Gabriel Agreste’s eyes were squeezed shut. Without another word, the man turned away and exited the chamber.

Nathalie awaited him, her ever-present tablet in her arms, and Gabriel held up a hand. She paused and watched as he opened a cabinet in his office, pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay and a glass, downed a shot, and then waved his hand for her to begin.

“Stephanie called and left you a message,” Nathalie said monotonously, tapping at her tablet. “I’ve forwarded it to you.”

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly and pulled out his phone. He stared at the wavelength of the voice clip and hit play.

“Gabriel, I have some concerns about the concepts for your latest lineup. I know it’s not my job or place to critique any of your work, but as a friend and fellow designer I strongly recommend you take another look at those drafts. I wouldn’t accept it from an amateur, never mind someone of your caliber. It’s completely uninspired and unoriginal, Gabriel, you—”

He put his phone down before the message finished, and poured himself another glass. Nathalie gave a polite cough.

“If you don’t mind me saying—”

“I do mind,” Gabriel murmured into his glass.

“—I think you need to prioritise.”

The glass rested on his knee and Gabriel stared up at the blank white ceiling.

“I refuse to leave my brand in the hands of someone else, Nathalie, not even you.”

Nathalie’s lips thinned. Gabriel sighed.

“I understand,” she said, her voice no longer monotonously informative, “but perhaps you should spend less time impulse-akumatising people without a real plan for their powers or how they will deal with the heroes. I know what you are capable of, but I don’t think you can manage being both Hawk Moth and Gabriel Agreste in equal capacity anymore. You cannot go on like this.”

Gabriel stared at her quietly. Nathalie’s posture remained tense.

“You’ve been meaning to say that for a while, haven’t you?”

Nathalie brought her arms down to her sides. “Since Heroes’ Day failed, yes.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So what do I do, then? Hand over the role of head designer to someone else?”

“No,” said Nathalie, pulling up her tablet again. “Here’s an alternate schedule that prioritizes one role over the other. Ideally, I would recommend you spend more time planning akumatisations rather than carrying them out. Planning instead of immediate action also gives you more energy to focus on your job as a designer.”

“And if someone finds Hawk Moth’s absence suspicious?”

“I’ve set a variety of specific days for akumatisation based on the data compiled since September.”

“So Hawk Moth stays, but his attacks are determined by when his secretary deems suits his schedule,” Gabriel said dryly.

Nathalie gave him a blank stare, then raised her eyebrow.

“Thank you, Nathalie. I apologise for snapping at you. You are my most trusted ally, as myself and as Hawk Moth.”

The woman’s posture eased, and she gave the faintest hint of a smile.

“Thank you for finally saying so, sir,” she said. Her tablet’s screen lit up. “I’ll be away until 7pm tonight, there’s a matter at the office. Adrien—”

“I can watch over him myself,” Gabriel interrupted. Nathalie straightened. “Don’t let me keep you from your job, Nathalie.”

The woman nodded, and left the room without a second look.

Gabriel reached for the bottle, then thought better of it and grabbed the cap.

 

It was Mr. Agreste who answered the door again, and Marinette wondered how bad her luck really was. By the look on his face though, he was as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“Miss Marinette,” he greeted, “I’m afraid Adrien isn’t available today.”

“Hi!” she squeaked out in reply. “I know, Nino told me he was sick and so I brought over the homework he’s missed and some soup for um… to make him feel better?”

The man stared at her and Marinette wanted to shrink back. She knew he was capable of being kind, yet there was still something in his eyes that made her feel uneasy.

“That’s very kind of you, Miss Marinette,” he said at last, his face cooling into a polite smile. “Please, come in.”

The gate buzzed and the feed cut. Marinette let out a sigh. Just her luck.

 

She couldn’t imagine either Gabriel or Adrien doing any sort of domestic work, and they probably didn’t. The kitchen was absolutely spotless, and though she hadn’t opened any of the cupboards, she was certain the pantries would be as meticulously stocked as the fridge was.

“I’m really sorry I’m here so late,” Marinette said, as she shut the fridge door. “I got caught up in today’s akuma attack.”

By the door to the corridor, Mr. Agreste’s voice betrayed a slight worry.

“You weren’t hurt by it, I hope?”

Marinette spun on her heel to face him. Mr. Agreste’s brows were pulled in concern, and in his smart casual wear against a kitchen, he almost looked fatherly.

“Oh, no, not like that. I’m completely fine. It wasn’t just the attack, it took a bit longer than I expected to prepare the soup, too. It’s the kind my parents make me when I’m sick so, I thought Adrien would like it…”

Something flickered over Mr. Agreste’s face, something Marinette was quickly beginning to find familiar. It was partially confusion, and something else, but it wasn’t judgement or disdain, so that was good. The expression passed for another polite smile.

“Well, thank you for taking the time, I know Adrien will be grateful. Will you be heading home on your own? If not, I can call for a driver.”

“Oh, er… I’ll be going on my own, but,” Marinette braced herself, then stepped forwards. “I wanted to thank you for your critiques, they really helped me out and I’ve been trying to improve my designs using what you’ve taught me.”

Mr. Agreste gave her a calm, warm smile that made the tile beneath Marinette’s feet waver.

“I’m glad it was of use to you, Miss Marinette,” he said. “You have a tremendous talent and skill, I would be glad to take you on as an apprentice in a few years.”

Marinette’s reaction came out as a squeak and she felt her face flare in embarrassment.

“That’d be… really amazing, Mister Agreste,” she managed to say, her hands tangling together nervously. “But I really have a lot to learn, I think. Which is, actually what I wanted to talk to you about too.”

“Of?” Agreste prompted, his expression falling neutral.

She forced herself to maintain eye contact. She had to ask.

“If you have the time, do you think you could critique my redesigns, too?”

Icy blue eyes peered down at her over lenses, and Marinette suddenly felt very, very small. She clenched her jaw and dug in her heels. The worst thing Agreste could do was decline. She wasn’t going to panic herself out of this one.

Mr. Agreste’s eyes softened. He smiled at her, and the sturdy kitchen tile beneath Marinette’s soles gave way.

“Of course,” he said, warm and inviting, “I’d be glad to.”

“Thank you so much,” Marinette said, her words distant to her ears. She rifled through her backpack and retrieved her sketchbook.

As Mr. Agreste looked through it, Marinette struggled with the rest of her request, then gave up.

“I really don’t want to keep bothering you or Adrien, I know you’re both pretty busy so, you can just tell Nathalie to contact me when you’re done and I’ll just come and pick it up myself.”

“No need, Marinette.” Agreste said coolly. “I’ll give you my number and let you know.”

Marinette could have sunk to the ground in relief. He’d suggested it himself.

“Oh.” she said, trying to sound normal. “That’s really nice of you, Mr. Agreste. I was... going to ask you first, actually but… I was worried I’d be bothering you.”

“You are not, Miss Marinette,” Agreste met her eyes, and her face burned. “I’m very glad to help you. And, if you want, you can send me digital works this way as well.”

“Really?” her voice pitched. “I…”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s perfect! I mean, well… I, um, kind of had the impression you would have a preference for traditional over digital…” Or maybe that her grandfather’s atittude rubbing off of her.

“They’re simply different mediums with different purposes,” Mr. Agreste said smoothly, closing her sketchbook. He reached into his pocket and unlocked his phone. “Whether you use graphite or ink or pixels, the end result is what matters.”

They swapped devices, and as Marinette typed in her phone number into Agreste’s phone, her fingers were trembling. This was really happening, Gabriel Agreste was on speed dial for her.

“Before you go,” Gabriel said, as they returned each other’s phones, “I do have a question for you as well.”

“Yes?”

“Your sketchbook doesn’t contain any sketches of the other Miraculous heroes,” he remarked.

A chill went down Marinette’s back.

“Well, the truth is… Yes, I saw the entire book and all the other Miraculous, but I didn’t tell anyone or make any designs of them because, well… what if it got back to Hawk Moth that you had information on the Miraculous? I mean, it would put you and Adrien in even more danger of him.”

“I see.” Agreste’s gaze softened again, but differently this time. “You’re very smart, Miss Marinette, and I thank you for looking out for Adrien and myself.”

“If… If you wanted to see, I do have designs for that Peacock heroine, and the ones based on the Zodiac,” Marinette said slowly. “They’re in another sketchbook. Would you like me to send scans to you? If you have time for that.”

Agreste’s eyes glimmered and Marinette couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s up to you, Marinette,” he said softly. “I’m happy to aid you wherever you need me.”

Something warm melted into Marinette’s chest. Her smile grew brighter.

“Thank you, Mister Agreste, that means the world to me.”

 

“This is not what I meant when I suggested focusing on your work as a designer,” Nathalie’s tone dripped with accusation.

“She approached me and asked for my help,” Gabriel replied, refusing to look up from his canvas. “To be honest, I think it’s something I need.”

“An apprentice?”

“Yes. Especially an unofficial one.”

Nathalie was unconvinced.

“Do her parents know?”

Gabriel paused.

“I imagine Miss Marinette will tell them if she’s away for an hour.”

“And shall I set up appointments for when Adrien is out?”

Gabriel frowned at her. Nathalie didn’t budge.

“No need to be so secretive, I am only advising her, Nathalie.”

Nathalie gave a polite smile.

“Very well, then, sir. If you insist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially the kitchen scene was going to be a lot longer, but I figured for pacing's sake we'd move more of the emotionally connected parts to a future chapter.
> 
> On a different note, this is absolutely not S3 compliant in terms of characterisations (Gabriel is much more defensive of Marinette and doesn't like Lila), but there will be nods to the new episodes (like Bakerix). However, since Marinette in this story has already moved on from Adrien, certain episodes won't happen at all (like Backwarder) and Oni-chan specifically does not work out the way it does in canon. Namely, Gabriel has no time for Lila or harassing Marinette.
> 
> As the cool kids say, I am indeed salty.


End file.
